


Howl

by carolion



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Dubious Consent, First Time, Growing Up, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolion/pseuds/carolion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David can’t understand how Cook came into his life like that and completely changed everything he’d ever been told was right and wrong with just a single touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics belong to Florence + the Machine's _Howl_.

  
_If you could only see the beast you've made of me  
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free  
Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart  
Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart_

*

David can’t understand how Cook came into his life like that and completely changed everything he’d ever been told was right and wrong with just a single touch. He can’t control the way he feels anymore, and it makes him helpless, a slave to his own needs, needs he never knew he had before Cook. He hates it, in a way, but he can’t imagine living without it now.

It started after Top Twelve, the first Beatles night. David was so _disappointed_ in himself for screwing up We Can Work it Out; it wasn’t even about the judges or the fans or anything (although yeah, _that_ too), but just the way it felt to open his mouth and go _blank_. It was awful, and he hadn’t really wanted to talk to anyone after the show, too anxious and frustrated to pull off polite interest and bob his head to their encouraging words. He’d even been upset enough to blow off his dad (well, sort of), asking for just a few hours by himself. He just – left, went straight to his room and tried to empty out his mind. It hadn’t worked that well, and he was left wondering if he’d messed up bad enough to get voted off the show, or if his previous performances would be enough to carry him on or-

“Hey,” David Cook said from the doorway. David hadn’t even heard him knock, but he jerked up quickly and turned, feeling weirdly defensive.

“Hi,” he had answered cautiously, unsure. Cook had glanced around and then stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him casually. David felt his shoulders tense up even more. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Cook – Cook was pretty cool, actually, even though he did tease David about being a ladies man or whatever, but being alone in a room with him seemed – dangerous for some reason, and the hairs on the back of David’s neck were standing up a little bit.

“How are you doing?” Cook asked, drifting closer to the bed where David was seated. David stared up at him apprehensively. Of course Cook had done _great_ that night, like, so good, and Simon had even said that Cook could win it all, based on talent alone rather than popularity, and David felt weirdly like that comment had been directed at him, too – like there was no way he’d win based on talent alone, and it made something in his throat close up. (Not that blamed Cook for being talented, gosh, no just – it stung.)

“Fine,” David said slowly, tilting his head, “just – frustrated I guess. It wasn’t – _I_ wasn’t –“ he tried, but the words wouldn’t come out (just like before, just like on stage, his mind chanted, and he frowned to himself).

He expected Cook to give him a pat on the shoulder and tell him some lame platitude about how everyone has a bad night or whatever, but Cook just sighed heavily and plopped down next to David, close enough that their arms were brushing.

“Yeah. I know.” Cook said, and then smiled at David. David swallowed nervously, a little intimidated by how close their faces were. Didn’t Cook like, know what personal space was? (Except, no, Cook never had understood that, not with anyone.)

“You know what I think?” Cook asked, and David closed his eyes, trying to find some patience. _Here it comes,_ he thought, and braced himself for whatever ‘wisdom’ Cook was going to impart on him.

He didn’t expect Cook to lean closer, his mouth brushing over David’s ear as his hand reached around to touch David’s hip gently.

“I think you need to relax,” Cook murmured, and David could – David could feel his lips moving against the shell of his ear, and his lips were soft and his breath tickled a little, and he could feel Cook’s fingers on his skin, rubbing a little. His breath hitched and he nearly flailed backwards in surprise.

What did Cook mean ‘relax’?

“What do you mean?” He asked, hating how his voice sounded so breathless. “I – I relax.”

“Dude. You’re totally tense.” Cook’s smile was fond. “Don’t you ever-” and then Cook’s hand slid down and suddenly his palm was cupping David through his pants and David _definitely_ couldn’t breathe, “-touch yourself?” Cook’s voice was deadly soft and intimate in his ear, and David was frozen.

He didn’t – he wasn’t _allowed_ to – and sure, maybe on accident once or twice, but he _never_ did that, it was wrong, and usually it was just easier to like, think of something else until it went away. Sometimes it happened for no reason though, and that was always frustrating. This time though - _this_ time, he could feel himself getting hard under Cook’s hand. He squeaked a little, ashamed and embarrassed.

Cook chuckled. “It’s okay,” he soothed, and stroked a little with his thumb, which made David make an even more embarrassing sound, more like a whine or something. Cook didn’t seem to care though. “Have you? Ever touched yourself?”

David shook his head miserably. He felt Cook’s hand on his neck, then on his cheek and then Cook guided him so they were staring at each other. Cook smiled and David stared, unable to help noticing how pretty Cook’s eyes were, how the shape of his smile made David’s heart beat a little faster.

“Awesome,” Cook breathed, and then leaned in and kissed David. David _did_ flail then, his hands flying up to grab Cook’s arms tightly as he made a surprised, muffled sound against Cook’s lips. He’d never been kissed before, and he leaned away automatically, but Cook’s mouth was firm and insistent, and he found himself clinging to Cook, trembling as he was kissed. He didn’t know what to _do_ but it felt sort of – nice, which he knew it was supposed to feel nice he just hadn’t expected it to feel _this_ nice, and Cook’s lips were really soft and David was shivering a little and these warm washes of heat kept crashing through his body. David stopped leaning away and let Cook hold him, and he sighed, just a little, parting his mouth and dragging in a breath, but Cook did something with the angle of his head and then his _tongue_ was in David’s mouth and suddenly everything was really hot and he wasn’t just warm and shivery, he was tingling and felt desperate, and his hips kept jerking up against the pressure of Cook’s hand, helpless and wanting.

Embarrassed, he broke away with a whimper, turning his face and gasping, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Cook’s face. But then Cook’s hand was on his chin and forcing his face back towards Cook.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Cook soothed, and David opened his eyes warily, still panting a little. Cook’s face looked kind, and he was smiling a little, and David felt himself relax because Cook’s smile _always_ made him feel better, even on results nights, even after a bad rehearsal, or when he was stressing out over what song to pick. Only now Cook was making him feel better about… well, about whatever they were doing.

“You really have never done this before, huh,” Cook asked, but it wasn’t _really_ a question. He sounded thoughtful, and curious. David flushed and shook his head numbly, but he tightened his grip on Cook’s sleeves when Cook started to, um, _pet_ him again.

“Can I show you?” Cook asked breathily against David’s neck. His beard scratched along his skin and it made his skin hum distractingly. “Am I allowed? Will you let me?” And David couldn’t think, so he nodded, and shuddered in Cook’s arms.

Cook kissed the underside of his jaw and eased them both back until they were laying on the bed next to each, warm and close and comfortable. He unbuttoned David’s pants just enough to slide his hand in, and David’s breath hitched as Cook wrapped his hand around David’s erection, giving it an easy, slow stroke. It was a good thing they were laying down, David thought hazily, because he was pretty sure that skin on skin contact rendered his limbs useless. Cook smiled a little, and stroked a little faster, running his thumb over the crown of David’s cock every now and then, and David whimpered.

He actually _whimpered_ , and his arms tensed and he didn’t know what to _do_. It felt so good, but there was this urgency in his gut that made him want to curl up on himself, a tension zinging in his body that told him more and faster and _harder_ , because it wasn’t _enough_. Cook was fumbling with his pants again, pushing them down around his thighs and exposing him completely so his hand wasn’t trapped by the material. It was so – David’s pulse had jumped, and his hips flexed and twitched, thrusting minutely into the tight circle of Cook’s grip.

“That’s it,” Cook groaned, nuzzling at David’s soft t-shirt as his had slid smoothly over David’s erection. “God, yes, there you go.” David felt Cook’s – um, well Cook had sort of nestled up against him, and he was pressed really firmly on his side against David’s leg, and David could feel _his_ erection and it was sort of – it was sort of hard to breathe. To know that – to know that Cook was aroused by this, by touching David like this.

“Cook I can’t,” he whined, arching his back a little. The urgency inside of him had coiled even tighter and it was the worst thing and the best thing he’d ever felt in his life. “ _Please_ ,” he begged, and threw an arm over his face so he didn’t have to hear his own sobs of need.

“Okay, okay,” Cook said softly, and slid down David’s body a little, pushing David’s shirt up so Cook could press soft kisses against his stomach and his ribs and his hipbones. Every touch felt like a spark, and David felt his skin _yearning_ for Cook’s touch. Cook reached down and cupped David’s balls gently, holding them and squeezing gently as his other hand increased it’s pace. It was slick and fast and _noisy_ , a loud wet noise that sounded obscene in the quiet of the hotel room, a staccato beat punctuated by David’s embarrassingly loud whimpers and gasps.

“Wait, wait!” he burst out when Cook’s fingers curled cleverly and touched a spot behind his balls, because he felt his stomach jump and everything started rushing _hard_ , but it was too late and he felt his cock jerk hard in Cook’s grip and he was coming.

The orgasm hit him like a freight train and he curled up over himself, Cook’s hand still working him firmly, and he felt like he couldn’t see because of the bright white spots dancing in front of his eyes. It left him breathless and gasping, still keening from the pleasure wracking his body.

It took a few minutes for him to wind down, bells still ringing in his ears. His limbs were trembling, and Cook was patting his back comfortingly. But – it was so – it was like a normal pat on the back, like a ‘good song Archie’ kind of pat on the back, so impersonal compared to the way Cook’s hand had felt on his member, hot and tight and perfect, and so so intimate.

“How do you feel?” Cook asked, low and sexy and curious, right into his ear. David raised a shaky hand to his face, felt the dampness there and realized the shock of his first _real_ , intentional orgasm had actually brought tears to his eyes without him realizing. He wiped them way quickly, blinking away the wetness.

“Tired,” David whispered, and it was true. He felt drained, and he was still trembling a little. He was sticky – it made him blush. Cook laughed a little and kissed his cheek before sitting up.

“Try to get some sleep before tomorrow,” Cook suggested, like it was – like nothing had _changed_ , like he was trying to be the older brother figure or something, as if he hadn’t just –

“Okay. Yeah. Um,” David hesitated, lifting his eyes cautiously to Cook’s. “Thanks,” he said awkwardly. Cook laughed again, throwing his head back, and David didn’t know how to feel.

Cook’s face was still happy and open when he turned to grin at David. “You’re very welcome.” David couldn’t help but notice he was still – he still had a – he hadn’t whatever yet. There was a part of him that wanted to ask if he could help Cook with that, but he was too terrified, and locked his jaw, afraid of saying anything.

“See you tomorrow Arch,” Cook said gently, fondly, and then he was out the door, like nothing had changed when _everything_ had changed.

*

 _Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack  
My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out  
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground_

*

David was tense all the way through the results show. For some reason the producers kept making him sing with Cook, and dance next to Cook, and sit next to Cook, and all David could think about was how he smelled, how warm he was, the way he’d touched him, and it was making him a nervous wreck _besides_ just worrying about the results.

Cook was safe, obviously. David knew he was going to be, and smiled and clapped when Cook sighed happily and sat down on the couch again. But it was making him feel tight and anxious again, and he couldn’t focus as Syesha sang, wondering if he’d be safe, be in the bottom three, or going home. It’s – he wasn’t panicked. Nervous, yes, stressed, yes, but not panicked. He tried to stay positive, but there was a cold pit of dread in his stomach that only got heavier and heavier as the night wore on, until he was in the last group of contestants to be called over by Ryan.

No one wanted to go home, and he didn’t want anyone to go home, but he couldn’t – it couldn’t be him. Every time he made it another step further he couldn’t believe it, but at the same time he knew it wasn’t his time to leave the show yet. He stood stock still next to Brooke on stage, eyes dull and unfocused as Ryan’s voice washed over him in.

“You’re safe,” Ryan said, and crowd cheered, but all he heard was a low buzzing sound as he turned and hugged Brooke automatically. His legs felt wobbly, and he must have had a dazed look on his face when he drew away from her, because she squeezed his arms and said “Go sit down” kindly to him, directing him towards the couches, back to David Cook.

Cook slapped the seat next to him, a wide grin on his face, but David couldn’t bear to be that close to him, not when he already felt so shaky, not when he was afraid he might turn his face into Cook’s neck and look for an anchor in all this craziness, someone to soothe his singing nerves. And the way Cook had relaxed him, last night, wrenching the orgasm from him, drawing out words he’d never said before, making his body feel things he’d never felt before, was still too fresh in his mind, making him ache, making him squirm, so he tried to lean away and keep his distance.

But then Brooke was announced safe and she walked over to sit next to him, forcing him to slide into the seat right next to Cook. It was awful, holding himself so stiffly, afraid of relaxing, afraid of turning his head to catch a glimpse of Cook’s profile. He tried to keep his eyes down, or on the center of the stage, but they caught Cook’s hand clasped in his lap and he couldn’t help but wonder if after Cook had left his room last night, if he had gone back to the room he shared with Michael and jerked off, in his bed, or in the shower, and what he had thought about. Whether or not he’d thought about David, thinking about David doing that to _him_ , or something else that David didn’t even _know_ , or maybe it had nothing to do with David at all and it was just the endorphins that got him – excited, and if he relieved himself by thinking about a girl, about – about touching her, kissing her, and David felt hot and ashamed and sick, because it made him _jealous_.

He had to sit through David (the other David, the _third_ David)’s send off dinner, trying to pick a seat far away from Cook and as close as possible to his father, who sat and smiled and clapped after everyone gave a little speech about David H. and even nudged David to get up and say something. He didn’t remember what he said. It was a mass of fumbling words and accidental jokes that everyone laughed at and it was fine, he guessed. He just wanted to get _away_ , and have this night to try and forget what had happened the night before.

But of course as he was trying to leave, to go up to his room and lay down on the bed and pretend everything was okay and not _crazy_ , Cook grabbed him by the arm and reeled him around.

“I told you you’d be fine,” Cook said, smiling. David stared back, a deer in the headlights. Cook’s fingers were tight and firm, but not painful, and it reminded him – “Just remember to relax, okay?” Cook winked, and David flushed, pulling away until Cook let his grip break and David could walk - _walk_ , not run, not matter how much he wanted to – away.

*

 _Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers  
Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters  
A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night  
May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright_

*

He tried not to think about it. He tried to think about anything _but_ what had happened with Cook, but it seemed to haunt him. The smallest thing, like putting on his clothes would remind him of the way Cook touched him, the sweep of his fingers along David’s skin and David found himself hard and blushing and yearning for the feel of Cook again. It was like a fire had been lit inside of him, and he didn’t know how to sate it. He wanted _so much_ , so many things he didn’t even have a name for. Some days he would look at Cook and _crave_ him.

It was completely throwing him off his game. He couldn’t concentrate on anything but the dark heat inside of him, and finally he couldn’t take it, the constant phantom touches he swore he could feel on his body in the worst possible moments, how he couldn’t talk down his erections anymore, so stubborn and insistent now that he knew, he _knew_ what it was like to have relief. He started to touch himself in the shower, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against the slick tile as he stroked himself as fast and hard as possible, trying to just _get it over with_. To his shame it was good, it was _so_ good, and he always came, gasping as the hot water from the shower washed over him, washing away the evidence of his sinful self-indulgence. It couldn’t wash away the guilt, however, and it never seemed to feel as good or as satisfying when Cook did it to him.

He wanted. And _wanted_. And it ate at him from the inside out, until he wasn’t just jerking off in the shower any more, but turning over in bed, away from Chikezie and his _dad_ to slip his hand beneath his pajama bottom and stroke, biting his lip, his hand, the pillow just to keep quiet as his hips jerked erratically and he tried to keep his movements undetectable. It was shameful, but all he could picture was Cook doing everything to him, and doing things to Cook too. He hadn’t even been able to participate, really, too shocked and nervous to do much more than suck in shaky breaths and moan, his limbs like jelly by the end. And he really wanted to touch Cook. He needed him – he needed him _so much_.

It only took two weeks of bringing himself off and feeling empty and unsatisfied as he fantasized about Cook’s hands and Cook’s mouth and Cook’s body pressing him down before he finally worked up the courage to grab the other contestant by his wrist and pull him aside.

“I need to ask you something,” David blurted out as soon as they were alone. Cook tilted his head a little, curiously arching one eyebrow.

“Okay – Archie, why are we in a closet?” He asked, tapping the closed door gently.

“Because it’s embarrassing! I need – it’s private.” David knew his eyes were huge and wide, and when Cook looked down at him, he stopped grinning so wide and his face sobered.

“Alright, I’m sorry. You can ask me anything Arch, go ahead.”

David took a breath and then stepped closer to Cook. They were already standing pretty close together – the linen closet wasn’t exactly a walk-in, but now he was pressed right up against Cook, close enough to feel his body heat. He shivered and looked up, right into Cook’s confused, wary looking face.

“You told me I needed to learn to relax, right?” David asked, watching carefully as understanding dawned on Cook’s face. “And I tried Cook, I really did,” he promised, his voice wavering a little. “I didn’t want to be this way but – but I don’t even know what I’m doing, only that I can’t stop. And I want _more_.” He flushed, closing his eyes, embarrassed because he was already a little hard, and it was difficult not to rub up against Cook’s strong thigh.

“I need you to – I need you to touch me again. I need to touch _you._ Please, Cook.” He rose to the balls of his feet, putting his hands on Cook’s shoulders and leaning close enough that if he were to lick his lips, he’d lick Cook’s lips as well, but he didn’t kiss yet, just stayed there, waiting nervously for some kind of reaction.

Cook took a sharp breath and stumbled back a little until he back banged against the shelves filled with towels. David nearly lost his balance and almost crashed into Cook’s chest, flailing his hands out just in time to catch himself. Cook reached out too, steadying David as he tried to regain his equilibrium.

“Oh no, Archie…” Cook started, shaking his head. His eyes were wide, and he was panting a little. He hadn’t taken his hands off of David, his fingertips burning into the flesh at David’s hipbones. “I didn’t mean – it was just a one-time thing. I was just trying to get you to relax, we really shouldn’t –“

David saw the way his pupils seemed to dilate though, and how his breathing increased when David licked his lips, and his hands were so gentle but so, so intimate as they curved around his sides. David bravely leaned up again.

“ _Please_ , Cook, I need it. I need you. I can’t – I can’t stop thinking about it, and I’ve tried so hard to be normal, but it’s not _enough_ ,” he begged, clutching at Cook’s shirt, and Cook groaned, a low, broken sound, and suddenly his hands were sliding up David’s back and tugging him closer.

“Okay,” Cook breathed against his mouth, nuzzling at David’s cheek. David’s heart jumped and started to race. “Okay, jesus, yes Archuleta, _yes_.”

He bit his tongue against the _thank you_ that wanted to spill out and just held on as Cook finally, _finally_ kissed him. It was just as shocking as before, and just as hot. Cook’s mouth was rough and needy against his, and David couldn’t do anything but whimper and open to him, feeling that heat rise in his body and wrap around him until he couldn’t do anything but _want_ and feel, and desire.

“I want to touch you this time,” David murmured against Cook’s mouth as they broke for air. Cook had David pressed up against the closet door, pinning his wrists to the wood as he devoured his mouth. Cook stared down at him, his lips pink and wet, shiny from spit. He rolled his hips a little and David had to swallow an embarrassing noise at the feel of Cook’s erection shoved up against his body.

“Is that right?” Cook breathed, letting go of David’s wrists to sink his fingers into David’s hair, tilting his head to mouth along his jaw and neck. “What else do you want?”

David squirmed, panting harshly as he pawed clumsily at Cook’s pants, scared and shaky and inexperienced but so so desperate.

“Everything,” he gasped out, “everything, anything, but you have to – you have to show me. You have to teach me.” He glanced into Cook’s eyes, shy and embarrassed because this was all new to him, and no matter how badly the fire burned inside of him, he still didn’t know what he was doing, and he needed Cook to show him.

Cook framed his face in his hands, staring into David’s eyes. His gaze was dark and hungry and it made David flush hot again, precariously close to losing control.

“Okay,” Cook agreed finally, leaning forward to kiss David long and hot and slow, drawing it out as his hands made quick work of David’s pants. “Okay, okay, I’ll teach you what you need to know. I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

It was everything that David needed to hear, and he arched in Cook’s grasp and let himself tumble headfirst into ecstasy.

*

 _If you could only see the beast you've made of me  
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free  
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'ed ground_


End file.
